


Here's To You

by orphan_account



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language I guess, M/M, Mpreg, Sad Ending, grindelwald is fucked up, how the fuck did this even happen, like really sad ending, macusa aren't nice, mary lou is even more fucked up, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I suck at summaries, so have a teaser quote instead..."After a short moment, however, Mary Lou reconsidered and when realization hit her with full force, she let go of the belt. It fell to the floor with a thud as the buckle landed first, and the sound echoed through the church like a gunshot.The Lord had listened to her prayers, and Mary Lou liked the way he had chosen to help her."





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently this happens when I stress out over elections. Oh, well. I have no idea how this happened, but I had the premise for this story stuck in my head and I had to get it out. So, enjoy, I guess?
> 
> The title is taken from the Joan Baez/Ennio Morricone song "Here's To You".
> 
> I'm working off the premise here that 1. Original Graves and Credence had a relationship before Grindelwald captured Graves and started impersonating him and 2. Grindelwald never gave Credence the necklace
> 
> English isn't my native language and this fic is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I don't own anything, obviously.

_There’s gotta be a heaven,_

_‘cause I’ve already done my time in hell_

Social Distortion, When the Angels Sing

I.

Gellert suppressed an annoyed sigh whenever the boy tried to prolong the physical contact Gellert was willing to give him. Like throwing a starved dog a bone, the boy would lean into his carefully calculated touches and cling to him like a millstone around his neck. Stifling, and so very, very beneath him.

Technically, Credence was supposed to be an adult, at least age-wise, but he’d never had the opportunity to grow into his own, independent person and Gellert would definitely not provide this opportunity.

He needed the boy, he reminded himself, and wasn’t this cruelly ironic? Gellert Grindelwald, dependent on the help of a clingy, whiny squib.

“Why don’t you touch me anymore?” Credence sobbed, frustration and need evident in his voice.

Gellert cupped the boy’s cheeks with both hands and forced himself to look into his eyes. “I’m touching you right now, aren’t I?”

“Not…not like before,” Credence whispered. “Not anymore.”

With difficulty, Gellert avoided hitting the boy for his boldness. No, he needed his cooperation, it would be foolish to scare him off. Everything would have been so much easier if Graves hadn’t gone ahead and sullied himself by fucking the squib boy. Graves, such a powerful wizard, falling for a worthless muggle – then again, Gellert couldn’t complain too much. After all, it was Graves’ relationship with the squib boy that he could exploit to find his real prize. The Obscurial.

“And do you want me to touch you like I did before?” Gellert asked in a deliberately low, predatory tone that he thought was seductive, leaning close to the boy and letting his lips almost but not quite graze the boy’s cheek.

Credence nodded frantically. “Yes, Mr. Graves, sir. Please,” he gasped.

Gellert smirked before schooling his features into something less sinister. “Credence,” he began, and the boy hung on his every word. “Credence, all you need to do is find the child.” Gellert pulled the squib boy into his arms. “Find the child and I’ll take you away from your mother. Find the child and we can be together, like you want to. Then we can be free, Credence. Find the child for me,” he whispered into Credence’s ear and then rapidly let him go.

Credence was looking at him with such obvious desire and adoration in his eyes, that Gellert almost wished Graves was here to see this. Dirty, useless muggle, not smart enough to figure out that his lover hadn’t actually visited him in months.

Gellert disapparated, and thought to himself that Graves was even more amusing than the abused squib. ‘Don’t hurt Credence, please, don’t hurt Credence,’ he’d beg each time Grindelwald came to see him. Once Gellert had found the Obscurial, he indeed planned on taking Credence away from his mother. He’d take him to see Graves, _his_ Graves, and then he would unleash every _Crucio_ he’d denied himself over the last few months on the boy at once. Gellert planned on torturing Graves’ little squib whore into insanity right in front of Graves’ eyes. It would be fun.

 

II.

Credence had missed curfew again. It happened with an infuriating regularity now, and Mary Lou knew she would have to punish him more harshly in the future. He’d always been full of sin, and however hard she’d tried to eradicate it, he wouldn’t learn.

Mary Lou had over time come to the conclusion that Credence had already been too old when she’d adopted him. The sin had had time to manifest itself in him, to fester and to grow, and he was lost to her. Chastity, on the other hand, had been raised by Mary Lou since she’d only been a toddler and she was exactly what Mary Lou had been hoping for. If children ever got to know a life of sin, then you could never fully rip the sin out of them again, Credence was living proof of this.

The church door opened, and Credence made his way in with heavy, reluctant footsteps. Mary Lou waited for him on the stairs, blocking his way as he tried to go upstairs. Wordlessly, she held out her hand. She didn’t even ask for his feeble excuses; she didn’t want to hear them. Rules were rules, and Credence would suffer the consequences if he broke them.

Reflexively, Credence reached down to unbuckle his belt. When he placed it in Mary Lou’s hands, he was trembling so much, the belt buckle was making a little tinkling noises. They resonated louder in the church than they should.

Credence swallowed and held out his hands, but Mary Lou gave him a pitying smile and shook her head.

“Take off your shirt, Credence.”

Usually, Mary Lou hit his palms, because he had to use his hands to get through the day, a constant, painful reminder of his wrongdoings, but today she would give him a punishment he wouldn’t forget for a long time.

Credence closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, and then he obeyed. He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off of his shoulders and arms. She gripped the belt tighter, but when Credence turned, so she would be facing his back, Mary Lou froze.

Credence was very thin, this came as no surprise to Mary Lou, who knew she gave out small food rations, because she believed hunger strengthened the character. And yet…

And yet Credence’s stomach protruded in a little bump, and there was no way she could mistake this for anything else than what it was.

A pregnancy.

 

III.

A pregnancy.

Credence was a carrier.

Her first, instinctive reaction told her to whip him until he lost consciousness.

A pregnancy meant sex. In Credence’s case, sex with another man, sodomy, an _abomination_.

After a short moment, however, Mary Lou reconsidered and when realization hit her with full force, she let go of the belt. It fell to the floor with a thud as the buckle landed first, and the sound echoed through the church like a gunshot.

The Lord had listened to her prayers, and Mary Lou liked the way he had chosen to help her.

“Credence,” she said slowly. “You have been seeing someone, haven’t you? Don’t lie to me.”

He nodded reluctantly.

“You’ve been seeing a man for quite some time now.”

Again, Credence nodded, tears streaming down his face.

“Have you been feeling ill in the mornings lately? Somehow different?” she implored.

“Y…yes,” Credence stuttered, bracing himself for a slap any time now.

“Do you understand what’s happening to you?” Mary Lou continued.

Credence shook his head almost violently, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Mary Lou took hold of his right hand and he flinched reflexively, but all she did was guide his palm to lay flat on his stomach.

“Ma?” Credence asked, confused by this strange new form of punishment, scared of what would come.

She forced herself to soften her tone, not quite comprehending how any man could be tempted into sin by this skinny, ugly, whimpering mess of a boy.

“You are carrying a child, Credence. You’re pregnant,” she explained in a hushed voice. “Put your shirt back on.”

Credence stared at her with a shocked expression, hand still resting on his stomach. He shook his head.

“This is not…only women…I’m a man, I’m…,” he tried to protest, but deep in his heart, he seemed to know it was true.

“This happens to men if they lie with other men,” she told him. At her words, Credence seemed to crumble, he sank down on his knees and covered his face with his hands.

In truth, carriers were extremely rare, there were probably much rarer than sodomites. Still, there had always been stories about men who could carry children, but as those pregnancies could only be the product of a sinful relationship, she had never educated her own adopted children about it. Some sins you were better off not even knowing about them.

“Do you know what will happen to you? Your belly will only get bigger and bigger, and soon you won’t be able to conceal the proof of your sin any longer,” Mary Lou implored and Credence slowly removed his hands from his face. She slid a finger under his chin and forced him to look up at her. “We’ll have to hide you away until your baby is born, you understand that, don’t you?”

 

IV.

Credence stared down at his stomach, the little bump he’d always ignored until now. His baby, he thought, and it sounded so wrong. Mr. Graves’ baby, then, his mind supplied and yes, this was much better. Slowly, he nodded. Of course, Ma couldn’t let the other Second Salemers know that her own son had failed to keep his morals in check.

But pregnancy was proof for sin, Ma had said so herself, so why wasn’t she punishing him, as she always did? He dared to ask her this question and she only stared at him with pity.

“Pregnancy is a delicate thing, Credence. We mustn’t endanger the baby. From now on, you’ll have to put the baby first in all your decisions. Put your shirt back on and go to your room. I’ll think of ways you can be useful, even though you’re no longer allowed to let anyone except family members see you.”

Credence obeyed and picked his shirt up off the floor. As he slid it back on and buttoned it up, he couldn’t resist sliding his hands across his stomach, to feel the small bulge that was Mr. Graves’ child and hesitated for a moment.

“No loitering, Credence,” came Ma’s voice, sharper in tone now than before.

He flinched and made his way up the stairs to his tiny room. It was really just a store-room, barely big enough to fit his bed into it, and as he lay down on the thin mattress, he could hear Ma closing the door behind her, and the key turning in the lock, before she made her way back down the stairs.

So this was how it was going to be.

 

V.

Mary Lou walked down the stairs and fell to her knees in front of the rickety church’s altar. The Lord had listened to her prayers. The Lord was just and He’d chosen to reward her.

There were a few little details about male pregnancies that she had purposely kept from Credence. How male pregnancies were considered high risk, for example, but not necessarily for the child, but for the carrier. During the last few months of the pregnancy, it would become evident that a man’s body was not exactly fit to carry a child. Labor lasted longer and was more difficult for carriers than for most women and would commonly leave the carrier fatally exhausted and injured. The children were as a general rule unusually robust and healthy, and survived in almost all cases, but only exceptionally strong carriers were known to survive childbirth.

Mary Lou looked up the stairs, in the direction of Credence’s room and quietly thought to herself that, if anything, Credence had always been a meek boy who’d grown up to be a frail and weak man. No, Credence wouldn’t stand a chance.

The Lord was punishing Credence by making him a carrier, and it wouldn’t be Mary Lou’s fault if Credence would die in childbirth and burn in hell. He had sinned, and he would suffer the consequences of his sin. At the same time, the Lord provided Mary Lou with a baby, that she could raise to always obey God’s rules and commandments. All she had to do now was wait.

 

VI.

Credence scrambled to sit up once he heard the distinctive sound of the key turning in the lock. Maneuvering himself into a sitting position was getting more and more difficult, as he struggled with his swollen belly. He could feel the baby kick, protesting, and he tried to speak to it, tried to send calming thoughts its way.

“Two hours,” Mary Lou said and Credence was quick to thank her. The time he was allowed to spend outside of his room seemed to be getting less and less, the further along he was. He’d tried to calculate back as well as he could and arrived at the conclusion that he had to be some seven months pregnant right now.

Credence tentatively made his way down the stairs and began his chores. As he could no longer pass out leaflets for the Second Salemers, he would be allowed to leave his room in the evenings, when no one except Ma and his sisters could see him. Credence had to clean the Church and their living quarters, as well as prepare next day’s meal for the street kids. It was becoming harder and harder for him to finish his chores in the allotted time and he found he was getting out of breath much more easily than ever before.

Ma almost didn’t speak to him anymore, except to enquire after the baby’s wellbeing and remind him of his duties. However, she had also stopped punishing him, so he supposed that was an improvement. Chastity had taken one horrified look at him when Ma told his sisters about his predicament and had ignored him from then on. Modesty, on the other hand, had almost seemed intrigued at the prospect of her brother having a baby. It was also her who’d bring him his meals during the day, and once, when he’d told her the baby would kick unusually hard whenever he saw her, she asked if she could feel it and he’d let her. Modesty probably didn’t understand that Credence’s condition was the result of a sin and wasn’t as repulsed as Chastity.

The two hours passed quickly and before he knew it, he was back in his room, locked up once more. He sighed and attempted to find a position on the bed that would sooth both his aching back and his swollen feet.

Boredom filled most of his days now, and without any distractions in his small bedroom, he’d taken to speaking to the baby as his primary means of occupation. Credence didn’t know if the baby could even hear him, but he found that it calmed him down immensely. He was no longer prone to emotional outbursts as was common up until a few months ago. Credence told the baby all the bible stories he could recall and what little he knew of the beautiful things world. The baby had become his emotional anchor, in lieu of Mr. Graves, and, other than Mr. Graves, the baby was always there and wouldn’t leave him.

Credence hadn’t seen him since Ma had found out about his pregnancy. At first, he’d thought Mr. Graves would come looking for him once Credence didn’t show up for their usual meetings. He’d reasoned with himself that maybe Mr. Graves had used his magic to get Credence pregnant and that the baby was a sign of his feelings for Credence, that Mr. Graves deemed him worthy to carry his child. However, Mr. Graves had never come. Perhaps he’d found the mysterious child from his vision on his own and didn’t need Credence anymore. But maybe he also didn’t know Credence was pregnant – in this case, he would seek Mr. Graves out once the baby was born and hopefully he wouldn’t be too angry with Credence.

“I’ve never told you anything about your daddy, did I?” Credence whispered to the baby. Everyone but him must be asleep at this hour of the night and even if they weren’t, they wouldn’t understand a word he was saying, if he only kept his voice down.

“Well, his name is Percival Graves and he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. To…to be honest, I hope you’ll take after him. And he has magic, he’s a wizard, but he’s a good wizard, not at all like the witches Ma keeps preaching against. He can appear out of thin air if he wants to, and sometimes, he made my injuries go away,” Credence said and his voice almost broke.

He put both of his hands on his belly and caressed his baby bump. For a short moment, he allowed himself to imagine they were Mr. Graves’ large, calloused hands and not his own scarred palms.

Credence shivered and continued: “If he has magic, then you’ll have magic, too, I suppose. He told me that I also have a little bit of magic, not enough for wizarding school, but he said he would try to teach me a few easy spells. Maybe he can teach us magic together, what do you think? We’ll just have to ask him, if…when he comes back, huh?”

The baby kicked especially hard at every mention of magic and Credence had to blink away tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

“I…I miss him so much,” he confessed. “I don’t think he even liked me very much in the end, but I’m sure he’ll love you. You’ll be just like him, you’ll have magic and you’ll be worthy…oh God, I miss him.”

 

VII.

There hadn’t been an Obscurus incident in months and Gellert cursed himself and, most of all, the useless squib boy, for not finding the child faster. Now his Obscurial had died before he’d even been able to get to it, and he no longer had any reason to stay in New York.

Gellert must have done something during the last meeting to scare the muggle boy off. He hadn’t returned to any of their meetings and he hadn’t seen him around the Second Salemers church anymore. Maybe he’d done the sensible thing and run away, who knew. In truth, Gellert didn’t care about what happened to him, he’d only been a useless squib, after all.

 

VIII.

“Graves,” Grindelwald laughed. “Do you have any idea what day it is?”

Graves stared straight ahead and didn’t move an inch. Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice. _Petrificus Totalus_ , such a first year spell, but it still did the trick.

“It’s the day I don’t need you anymore. So, Graves, it’s been nice having you as my guest in my suitcase, but after more than half a year, I must now bid you goodbye. Maybe the _Petrificus_ will wear off in a few hours, I don’t know. Maybe you’ll even be able to escape. I’ll be long gone, then, at any rate.”

Grindelwald disapparated and left Graves seething. Full body bind or not, Grindelwald was right, it eventually _had_ to wear off. And Graves hadn’t been the Director of Magical Security for nothing, he’d use all of MACUSA’s resources to hunt the bastard down and bring him to heel.

As much as his mind was controlled by rage, a small part of it remained focused on Credence. During the second half of his imprisonment, Grindelwald had been stoically refusing to give Graves any details on the young man, no matter how much Graves had implored and insisted. He’d only ever gotten a _Crucio_ , never an answer, but he’d kept on trying.

Merlin, he hoped Credence was fine.

First of all, he had to get out of his prison. Get his wand back. After that, eat. Take a bath. Bring all hell down on the imbeciles in the Department of Magical Security, who hadn’t realized that their No. 1 Most Wanted Criminal had been impersonating their superior for the short, short time span of _six months_. Find Credence and hope Grindelwald hadn’t done any damage. Take Credence away from his mother, like he should have done right in the beginning, Rappaport’s Law be damned.

Still, first of all, he had to get out of his prison.

 

IX.

“Modesty? Do me a favor, please,” Mary Lou said in a voice that left very little doubt that this was not a polite request, but a command.

“Yes, Ma,” she replied, the only acceptable answer in the Barebone household.

“I want you to go down in the cellar and shout as loud and as long as you can. I will be here listening.”

Modesty wanted to ask why her adoptive mother would ask her to do such a strange thing, but of course she obeyed. Anything other than obedience would have been foolish.

Modesty did as she was told, went down into the cellar and screamed as loud as she could. After she thought she’d shrieked sufficiently, Modesty walked up the stairs again and was strangely relieved when the door opened for her and wasn’t locked as she had almost expected.

“You screamed as loud as you could, Modesty?” her mother asked her.

Modesty nodded, slightly confused.

“Yes,” Mary Lou said. “This will do nicely.”

 

X.

Credence felt something wet between his legs, got up and knocked on the door, hoping someone would hear and help him through this.

Truth be told, he was scared of what was to come. He’d heard that it would hurt a lot and he wasn’t sure on what he’d have to do exactly.

When he heard the key turn in the lock, he was on the verge of a panic attack and held his belly with both hands. The pregnancy had become increasingly uncomfortable during the last third of it, and while he’d always wished for it to be over already, anxious and excited to finally getting to hold the baby, he’d now give almost anything for just one additional day of pregnancy.

Mary Lou stepped into the room and looked Credence up and down. Most of his clothes didn’t fit anymore, he wore an oversized secondhand shirt that Mary Lou had dug up somewhere, that was large enough to accommodate his belly and only his underpants, which were soaked through at the moment.

“I…I think it’s started,” Credence hiccupped and wrung his hands.

“Oh Credence,” she sighed and took him by the hand. “Come with me.”

He stared at her, eyes wide and red-rimmed.

“Come on, Credence,” she urged him on, and he followed, on unsteady legs, frightened of what was to come.

It was evening, and no visitor was in the church, that’s why Mary Lou didn’t think much of leading Credence through the building. As she started pulling him towards a familiar door, Credence started to protest and tried to yank his arm free, but Mary Lou’s grip tightened like a vice.

“You have sinned, Credence,” she hissed at him. “You have sinned and you are going to bear the consequences. Into the cellar you’ll go,” she added, opened the cellar door and attempted to push him inside.

“But…Ma…the baby,” he sobbed and tried in vain to get away. The truth was that Mary Lou Barebone had been a hard-working woman all her life, and Credence had spent the last few months mostly on bedrest and couldn’t move quickly thanks to his huge belly. She didn’t have any trouble to wrestle him inside the cellar. He stumbled down a few stairs and managed not to land on his belly, but he twisted his ankle and white hot pain momentarily blinded him.

Mary Lou looked at the sorry display, and just before she closed the door, she said one last thing to him that made his blood run cold.

“Don’t worry, Credence, the baby will survive just fine.”

Seconds after this, the door was shut, leaving him in the darkness and then he heard the key turn in the lock.

Had this been her plan all along? The dark mass inside his chest began to rear its ugly head once more, after he’d thought he’d overcome it. Credence couldn’t see anything, but he felt like he was dissolving into anger, sadness and rage. He was losing control of himself and something else was taking over, he could feel himself slipping away when a sharp, cramp-like pain shot through his whole belly and brought him back to himself.

It had really started.

Credence screamed until his throat was sore and then he screamed until he lost his voice. He had no way of telling the time, but if felt like eternity times three. There were times when he thought he’d died and was already burning in hell.

After an indeterminable length of time spent in agony, eventually, it was over. From seemingly far away, he could hear his baby cry. He fought for consciousness and somehow managed to cradle the baby against his chest.

“Hey, little one,” Credence gasped.

The baby wailed and it was evident that it didn’t much like the first few moments of its life. He drew a ragged breath, his whole, battered body felt like one big wound.

“I’m sorry,” Credence whispered and lost consciousness.

He woke up when a sliver of light hit his face. The door was open and Mary Lou was leaning over him. She took the baby away from him and when she saw Credence move, a look of visible disappointment appeared on her face.

“You’re alive. Hmm, but only just,” she spoke with obvious disgust in her voice.

Credence helplessly reached his arms out in the direction of his child and Mary Lou turned away slightly, shielding the baby from Credence.

Mary Lou walked up the stairs, baby held possessively like a precious doll and, almost as if in passing, she remarked: “A daughter. Excellent.”

Before he could crawl more than a few feet towards the stairs, the door was shut and locked and Credence collapsed and lost consciousness once more.

 

XI. 

Percival had observed the Second Salemers Church for a few days, and while he had spotted the mother (no, the monster, his mind corrected) and the daughters, he hadn’t caught sight of Credence and was worrying about the boy. Perhaps he had run away from his mother when Grindelwald had turned abusive? He hoped Credence was happy, wherever he was, but he nonetheless found himself knocking on the Church door during his lunch break.

The older girl, what was her name, Chastity, answered the door and immediately directed Percival to her mother. Mary Lou Barebone was currently attempting to soothe a newborn child that was crying with the full force its tiny body allowed.

Percival introduced himself as “Mr. Graves” and made up a story about having gone to Second Salemers meetings in the past, but he’d been out of the country for personal reasons for quite some time now. He fed her a lie after lie, claimed he wanted to know what the movement’s current situation was and dangled the possibility of a large donation in front of Mary Lou’s beady eyes.

“I see you have adopted another child, Miss Barebone,” he said and inclined his head towards the baby, that had hardly calmed down. It was evident that it didn’t like Mary Lou very much.

“Yes,” Mary Lou forced a smile on her harsh features. “Our little Purity. And then there’s also Modesty and Chastity.”

Percival flinched slightly. The names were getting ever more ridiculous.

“Didn’t you also have a son?” he asked, because this was the question he’d come here to ask.

The baby wailed loudly and Percival sent a wandless, nonverbal cheering charm its way, before he repeated his question.

When his magic made contact with the baby, Percival had to hide his surprise as best as he could. This child was brimming with magical power, and the magic felt so painfully familiar. He had to concentrate hard not to miss the answer to his question.

 “He ran away. I don’t understand why he interests you, Mr. Graves,” Mary Lou replied tersely.

Chastity, who was carrying a stack of plates, shrieked and dropped them on the floor where they shattered.

Had it not been for the cheering charm, the baby would have been screaming bloody murder.

 

XII.

Credence had slowly dragged himself to the top of the stairs. Maybe, somehow, if he could only make enough noise, perhaps someone would hear, perhaps Ma would take pity on him.

So far, he’d barely managed to knock on the door, he’d only scratched weakly at the wooden surface and leaned his cheek against the door.

Credence could hear the baby cry through the door and he ached with the need to comfort, to nurture, to soothe.

Suddenly, the crying ceased and Credence could hear a familiar voice. Didn’t you also have a son, it said, and while he couldn’t make out Ma’s answer in its entirety, two words resonated clear in his exhausted mind.

Mr. Graves.

Mr. Graves had finally come to rescue him.

Credence sobbed, and wanted to scream with rage, for just behind the door there was his baby and Mr. Graves, all he wanted in this world, and he had no way of getting to them. He suddenly felt insubstantial, as if he were floating away from the sorry prison that was his body. This is it, Credence thought, this is what dying must feel like.

 

XIII.

Chastity stood frozen to the spot where she had dropped the plates.

“Ma, something…something’s happening. Witchcraft,” she said with a shaking, terrified voice.

Graves was by her side in a matter of moments, attempting to shield the No-Maj girl from whatever it was that she was afraid of.

Wand at the ready, not caring if the No-Majs saw him performing magic (there was always _Obliviate_ , after all), Percival watched in horror as pitch-black smoke slowly crawled out from behind the closed cellar door.

Grindelwald had been right. There was indeed an Obscurus in New York. Percival stared at it with horrid fascination. He couldn’t deny that the Obscurus had a terrifying, awe-inspiring beauty to it, but Percival also knew that he was just one wizard against a lethal magical force. One wizard, and he hadn’t yet fully recovered from his time has Grindelwald’s prisoner.

The Obscurus didn’t seem to be intent on destruction, though. The black smoke collected itself maybe one or two feet away from the cellar door and slowly morphed into the outlines of a person. A terribly familiar person.

Credence Barebone was leaning against the cellar door, more dead than alive. Credence, his sweet Credence had been the Obscurial all along? Oh, how Percival wanted to rub that in Grindelwald’s smug face, that his precious Obscurial had been right there under his nose the whole time. Still, Percival himself, MACUSA’s Director of Magical Security for Merlin’s sake, hadn’t realized this either.

“Mr. Graves,” Credence groaned in pain. Percival knelt down at his side and took hold of one of his delicate hands. Credence looked like he’d been through hell. He was dressed only in a ratty old shirt that was several sizes too large on him and was stained with filth and blood.

“Where does it hurt?” Percival implored, but strongly suspected the answer would be “everywhere”.

Before Credence could answer, Chastity had recovered from her shock.

“Ma, I think this is the man who knocked Credence up.”

Credence whimpered, and suddenly everything made sense to Percival. The newborn with obvious magical powers that Mary Lou had been holding. Credence had been a carrier and he’d managed to survive giving birth, only for his adoptive mother to lock him up in the cellar and leave him there to die, had his Obscurus powers not saved him.

Credence had been a carrier…

Percival quickly squeezed Credence’s hand, then turned around and pointed his wand at Mary Lou Barebone’s face.

“Miss Barebone, I strongly suggest you give me the child,” he demanded, and when Mary Lou made no move to do so, he added: “As far as I know, she isn’t your child and I won’t have you ruining my daughter’s life, as you did with my partner.”

Reluctantly, Mary Lou handed the baby over and muttered something about abominations and sinners. As soon as held the baby safely in his arms, he flicked his wrist and hit both Mary Lou and Chastity with a body bind hex. Then he transfigured one of the plates that Chastity had dropped into a cradle for the baby.

Percival quickly sent a Patronus to MACUSA to request the presence of Aurors and a Healer. After that, he began to heal what little of Credence’s injuries that he could.

 

XIV.

“So, Mr. Graves, you are saying that Mr. Barebone was responsible for the Obscurus incidents over the past year?”

“Yes. I don’t know how he survived so long while he was suppressing his magic, but it’s a miracle, don’t you think?”

 

XV.

When Credence woke up, he was lying in a hospital bed. Mr. Graves was sitting by his bedside and Credence smiled.

“Mr. Graves,” he said softly and the man flinched, as if woken from a bad dream.

Credence noticed Mr. Graves’ eyes were red-rimmed, he hadn’t shaved in days and he looked older than he’d ever seen him before. There were more streaks of gray in his hair than Credence remembered.

“Credence,” he answered with a tearful voice. “How many times have I told you to call me Percival?”

“You saved me, Percival,” Credence whispered.

Percival shook his head, took hold of both of Credence’s hands and actually sobbed. Credence hadn’t thought that Mr. Graves was even capable of crying.

“Forgive me, darling, it’s all my fault. I didn’t know…I didn’t…I wouldn’t have told them if I’d known that it would come to this,” he cried.

“No, Percival, you rescued me, don’t you remember?”

Percival ran his hands through his hair, more disheveled than Credence had ever seen it, and then forced himself to look into Credence’s eyes.

“I have failed you…”

“I don’t understand.”

“Credence,” Percival croaked. “You remember the incidents, the attacks your mother thought were caused by witches?” At Credence’s nod, he continued: “That was you. You have magic, and you oppressed it for far too long, so it burst out without your control. I…I made a mistake and I told my Aurors about it and…Credence, they’re going to put you on a trial as soon as you’re well enough and it…it doesn’t look good. I’m so sorry.”

 

XVI.

Credence named his daughter Tina, after the nice witch who’d defended him against his Ma once.

 

XVII.

“We, the jury, find Credence Barebone guilty of killing the No-Maj Henry Shaw Jr. and risking the exposure of the magical community in the US, in direct violation of the International Statute of Secrecy. He is a threat to our society and has killed an innocent No-Maj, we therefore sentence him to death.”

 

XVIII.

“Doesn’t it look nice?”

Credence nodded with a blank expression.

“Do you want to go in?”

He nodded again and the nurse helped him get onto an uncomfortable metal chair.

Credence sat down and stared at the silvery fluid. He saw pictures, memories of moments when he had been happy.

Percival telling him he was beautiful,

and then Percival kissing him for the first time,

and then Percival making love to him,

and then when he held Tina for the first time after Percival had rescued him,

and then how Tina had closed her small hand around his index finger,

and then how he had kissed her cute, tiny toes,

and then when she’d smiled at him for the first time,

and then excruciating pain,

and then…

nothing.

 

XIX.

“Tell me about my other daddy again,” Tina demands after Percival tucked her in for the night.

“You see,” Percival began and swallowed around the lump in his throat, “His name was Credence Barebone and he was the sweetest, most beautiful man I’ve ever met…”

 

XX.

Most Obscurials died before the age of ten. Credence Barebone, though, had reached the age of 24.

Credence Barebone had been a miracle.


End file.
